


Liquid Courage

by scapeartist



Series: Drinks with the Prince [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-27
Updated: 2014-03-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 06:02:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1376533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scapeartist/pseuds/scapeartist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of The Tower, Emma asks Hook to keep an eye on her father. Drinking ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Liquid Courage

**Author's Note:**

> I see a series in my future of "Conversations between a Prince and a Pirate" if this keeps up. Events take place after 3.14.
> 
> Just added a companion piece called "[Solid Fear](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1386730)" which is Captain Swan followed by Emma & Charming to round out this story.

Emma put her hand on her father's arm and looked closely at him. "Are you ok to drive?"

David flashed his most confident looking smile and patted Emma's hand. "Yeah, of course I am. I'm fine."

Her mouth turned down as if her inner lie detector was starting to ping, and she nodded in Hook's direction. "Take Hook with you just in case, ok?"

With more than a little irritation, Hook resisted. "And what bloody use will I be if he's _not_? I can't operate his vehicle. And I'm not familiar with that..." he gestured his hook at the object in David's hand, " _phone_ thing either."

Emma closed her eyes and huffed in frustration. "You can...be moral support. Or something," she waved her hand dismissively. She walked closer to Hook and said quietly, "Just do it, please? I need to drop off Regina and get back to Henry. I've hardly seen him today. I'll meet you back at the inn later, ok? Just make sure he gets back to the loft in one piece."

Letting out a defeated sigh, Hook pulled at the whiskers beneath his lip and looked up at Emma. Her concern for her father was written in the two deep creases between her brows and the thin line of her mouth, and he didn't have the heart or energy to argue about it anymore. "Aye," he acceded.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

The ride into town was thankfully silent as the sun was just beginning to set, and Hook didn't push for conversation, preferring the distraction of the countryside sliding into the deceptively sleepy-looking seaside town as they drove. Generally, the Prince had the gift for gab and was generous with it, but not now. He had a look of determination carved into the line of his jaw and set of his eyes that was disturbed by the occasional squall of worry or a fleeting ghost of a tender smile only to tack right back to steely resolve. The subtle play of emotions across the man's face reminded Hook of Emma, and he let loose a small sigh that fogged the cool window he rested his head against. 

Once at the center of town, David drove right past his apartment building and continued on for another couple of blocks before pulling in short to an empty space in the lot next door to The Rabbit Hole. Hook could recognize a seedy drinking establishment anywhere and was not entirely sorry they were there. Still, he was pretty sure this wasn't part of Emma's instructions, and he was even more certain one of them was going to be read the riot act later and it probably was not going to be David. 

"You sure this is such a good idea, mate?" Hook questioned as they got out of the truck. 

With a short, bitter laugh David said, "I'm sure it's not. Also sure I don't give a shit at the moment. Come on. Drinks'r on me."

Hook shrugged and followed David into the dimly-lit tavern. The relatively early hour meant few patrons, but the staff bustled about preparing for the oncoming evening rush. The music playing in the background was at a reasonable decibel and not too offensive to Hook's ears, but he could smell the familiar, slightly sour odor of alcohol forever trapped in the floorboards like many a tavern he had frequented in his day, and he felt somewhere between nauseated and comforted. Drinking was drinking no matter the realm and sharing a drink was a way to find out important information, which, for a pirate, was valuable currency when navigating the many ports he visited. When it came down to it, he was as at home in a tavern as he was on a ship.

Leaning up against the bar, David motioned to the barkeep and pointed to a bottle and asked for a couple of glasses. He tossed his currency on the counter, grabbed the glasses and bottle, then headed for one of the booths that lined the far wall. Hook had just slid into his seat by the time the Prince had unscrewed the cap of the bottle, poured him a generous helping of rum, and slid the glass, liquor sloshing over the edge, across the table to him. David poured himself a glass of equal measure and lifted it. 

"To killing yourself...and living to tell the tale," he declared, then knocked back the entirety of his glass, punctuated by rolling shiver, grimace, and another pour. Hook merely sipped on his rum knowing he was going to have to assist David home at some point in the probably not-too-distant future and it wouldn't pay to be inebriated himself. Courting danger in the wild was one thing, setting himself up for Swan's inevitable wrath was another entirely. 

The color was already blooming in David's cheeks after one drink, and, along with it, Hook could sense a tide of words rising to the surface and he braced for it. David tossed back his second drink and let out a long, slow breath as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

"This day has been unnerving from start to finish. First the midwife from who-the-hell-knows-where invading my kitchen, then...almost getting killed by...by myself...topped off with Rumplestiltskin back from the dead _and_ at large. The _only_ way this day is going to end well is with a drink...or three."

David picked up the bottle and began to tip it into his glass when Hook blocked the opening of it and used a finger to push the bottle back upright. 

"Slow down, mate. First, you are far too unwieldily for me to drag back to your flat by myself. Second, I do not wish to have your pregnant wife nor your over-protective daughter remove any of my other appendages because I let you return home too sauced to recognize them. I value my life, thank you very much."

"You think Emma's protective of me?" David asked looking at Hook with a painful sincerity.

"Would I be sitting here otherwise?"

David huffed through his nose and crossed his arms over his chest. "You wound me. But I suppose you're right." His eyes drifted shut and he gritted his teeth. "You know, _I'm_ the one who's supposed to be doing the protecting. Keeping Emma safe was _my_ job and I continue to blow it over and over again."

"Emma can take care of herself, mate. Why are you so hard on...wait...." Hook sat back as all the pieces started snapping into place. He shook his finger at David and smiled smugly. "Now I understand. Your deepest fear was about your parenting skills, wasn't it?"

"Or lack thereof..." David said and poured some more—but less than before—rum in his glass. He picked it up and held it in front of his mouth but didn't drink.

Hook rested his arms on the table and leaned in. "You're afraid you won't be...aren't...a good father. That was what you were really facing in the woods today."

Finally taking a sip then gently putting down his glass, David asked, "That obvious?"

"Aye, but you vanquished it now, didn't you?" David gave a half-hearted nod but still looked troubled. Hook gulped his own rum and set the glass back down as he looked past David into the bar, which was beginning to fill up with boisterous locals. "Listen, mate," he continued, "I can promise you are leagues ahead of my own father, when it comes to parenting, so you've got nothing to worry about."

David pursed his lips and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, I bet he didn't abandon you. Twice." 

Hook chuckled, raising an eyebrow. "No, the once was enough, I assure you. At least you are sorry about it. That's an improvement right there." 

David sat up straight and studied Hook. "So you were abandoned as well?"

"Aye. When I was a boy," he admitted.

"Huh. That explains a lot."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Hook asked, affronted.

"Nothing...I see now why you..." David trailed off as the drink started to slow down his thinking.

"Why. I. What." Hook bit out, starting to be very sorry he hadn't put up more of a fight when Emma requested he watch over her father. 

"Why you are drawn to her. To Emma. You know what she's been through."

Hook sighed and picked up the bottle and hovered it over David's glass. "Another drink, Dave?"

"Yeah, hit me," he said and held the glass relatively steady for Hook to pour. Looking thoughtfully into the glass as he swirled the light brown liquid around, David asked Hook, "Would you forgive him?"

"Who?" Hook knocked back another gulp of his drink.

"Your father. Would you forgive him for leaving you?"

Hook shrugged and frowned. "Dunno. Never came up." David looked crestfallen at Hook's answer and tipped back his glass, emptying it again. Hook rolled his eyes and wiped the corners of his mouth with his thumb and forefinger while he thought about what to say next. Liam was more a father than theirs had ever been, and his brother's care was the only thing that saved him from an early grave or a life of indentured servitude. His own father was a vague memory and forgiveness was not something Hook gave easily. 

He shifted in his seat and clinked the bottle with his hook which pulled David's attention away from his brooding. Hook took the opportunity to try to get through to him before the next glass of rum cut off all thinking for the man. He took a deep breath and said earnestly, "David, you are not my father and, in spite of our common circumstances, I am not Emma. If you are worried about her forgiveness, and think it is holding you back from being a better father, then talk to her about it."

David thought it over and sighed. He slid his glass over to Hook and said, "Then I'm going to need another drink."

. . . . . . . 

The door to the loft slammed open with the weight of David propelling Hook forward through the doorway faster and far more awkwardly than he intended. Emma and Mary Margaret both turned, startled, and Emma's hand went to her gun as she jumped from her seat. 

Lumbering out of her chair, Mary Margaret cried, "David! Where have you been?! I was getting worried about you!"

Hook grunted trying to keep David from falling over and taking them both down. "A little assistance, please, Swan?" he asked, voice straining at the effort of managing the large drunken Prince dragging at his shoulder.

Emma raced over and put David's right arm around her shoulder to redistribute his weight and take some of the pressure off Hook. David looked over at her and gave her a broad grin and with shining eyes kissed the side of her head. Loudly. He pulled his arm tighter around Hook, practically putting him in a headlock and whispered far too loudly to actually be a whisper. "Emma, Emma...this one's a keeper."

Emma raised her eyebrows and glanced over at Hook who was obviously not drunk enough to find the situation remotely funny. "Ooohkaay...David. Thanks for the...letter of recommendation."

David tried to right himself and loosened up his grip on Hook enough so he was able to slide out from under David's arm. David kept a tight hold on the pirate's shoulder, though, and swayed as he turned back to Emma. "Did you know he—"

Hook interrupted him without haste. He thumped David on the chest and laughed. " _Whoa Mate_! Let's get you into your room, ok? Come along now..."

Emma looked confused and amused all at the same time and helped Hook guide her father over to the guest bed and unceremoniously dumped him face down into the pillows. They sighed in unison and shut the door behind them just as David began snoring. 

"Sooo..." Emma said, looking at Hook expectantly. 

"Got him home just as you asked," Hook said with a bright facade.

"This," she said, waving toward the closed door and racket coming from it, "is not quite what I meant." 

Hook shrugged, his lips pressed together in a small, tight frown. "Well, love, next time be more specific," he offered.

"What was he—" Emma began.

"You know what, darling, this has been a long day and I'm tired. I'm heading back to the inn. I'll see you in the morning, yes?"

"Uh, I...guess so?"

"Right then. 'Night m'lady" he bowed in the direction of Mary Margaret and strode out the door without another word. 

Emma's mouth gaped as she continued to stare at the closed door. After a few seconds, she turned to her mother and asked, "Got anything stronger than tea?"


End file.
